


the stranger the better

by amagpie



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Cock Worship, Established Relationship, Group Sex, Hand Feeding, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgy, Post-Season/Series 04, Service Kink, soft and dirty porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 06:10:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21231080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amagpie/pseuds/amagpie
Summary: For Eliot's birthday, Quentin and Eliot explore the wonders of coupled-up group sex.





	the stranger the better

**Author's Note:**

> Title lifted from Someone New by Hozier.

“I have a birthday idea and you have to tell me if you don’t want to do it,” Quentin says.

Eliot and Quentin have been cuddling on the couch - Quentin lounging on him while Eliot rubs his hands up and down his back every once in awhile- for the last twenty-five minutes. Eliot had assumed Quentin was falling asleep before he said something out of nowhere. 

Eliot smiles at his sweet boy. “What could it possibly be?”

Quentin takes a shaky breath. “I want to give you an orgy.”

That gives Eliot pause. He likes the sound of it, but has no idea what Quentin could possibly mean with that phrasing. “How nice of you,” he deadpans while wrapping an arm tighter around him and pressing Quentin’s face against his chest. “And how do you plan on  _ gifting _ me an orgy?”

“Grindr.”

That startles a laugh out of Eliot. “Oh, Q.”

“I know it’s been awhile since you’ve had anyone groveling at your feet to service you, and I figured what better time than your birthday to give you that?”

Eliot runs his fingers through Quentin’s hair. He can almost feel the concentrated frown tugging Quentin’s mouth down against him. “Isn’t that why I have you?”

Quentin laughs against his chest, and isn’t that such a perfect sound. “Hey, I’ve never groveled at your feet.”

“Yet.”

Quentin huffs and pulls up from Eliot’s chest, forcing them to look at each other for this conversation. “I’m serious.”

Quentin looks so goddamn good with his hair growing out again and the lines on his face getting more and more pronounced. Eliot loves this man in front of him with all his heart, but Quentin’s looking at him so seriously that Eliot can’t help but doubt where this particular idea came from. 

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but what’s in it for you?”

“Do you mean besides getting to watch my hot boyfriend get off?” Eliot laughs, but tilts his head to prompt Quentin to go on. “I like you telling me what to do, but it’s your birthday. You should get to relax. And don’t you miss all the group sex and weird stuff you used to do?”

“If this is only about thinking that I miss fucking a bunch of people at once, then I don’t think it’s gonna work.”

Quentin hides his face against Eliot’s chest again, so he almost doesn’t hear it. But, Quentin mumbles, “I think it’s really hot.”

“What was that?”

Quentin groans. “I also think it’s hot.”

“What, in particular?” Quentin is the one who forced them to talk about the specifics of their kinks and desires, so he can’t complain to have it thrown back at him. 

“I like the idea of people getting to see how regal you are. And, like, worshiping you or whatever.”

That prompts a slow grin on Eliot’s face. “I do exude big dick energy.”

Quentin’s lip curls up in a wry grin. “More like big dom energy.”

Eliot tightens his hand in Quentin’s hair and lets his grin split wide. “You do like that.”

“Duh.” Quentin fondly rolls his eyes. 

“Well, in that case, let’s do this.”

* * *

Finding the right people and organizing the logistics ends up taking a little bit of work. Eliot and Quentin scroll through Grindr together to pick out an appropriate cast of nubile men to sit at Eliot’s feet.

“No, he’s too old.” Quentin says when they’re looking at someone with graying hair.

“And what do you have against old people? He’s hot.” 

“I guess I was picturing more first years feeding you grapes, not seniors licking your toes.”

Just to be a dick, the next ten people Eliot clicks on are all over forty, but it has the desired effect when Quentin bursts out, “Fine, you win. He’s hot, he can go on the short list.”

* * *

The night arrives, and the condo is just as empty as Julia promised it would be, the lighting is dimmed, and something jazzy is playing over the speakers. Ever since college, Eliot has never let himself play a bad host, no matter the occasion, so he also has some wine and light fare laid out. If not for before the festivities, then at least for after.

Honestly, he doesn’t know how non-magicians get laid. The amount of wards they have on this place make him feel completely safe inviting three strangers over for a night of naked fun. Quentin might fret about even the possibility of danger if he brings that up, so he keeps those thoughts to himself. 

Quentin is wearing the most adorable sweater and jeans combination, and Eliot can’t help but sidle up behind him and wrap his arms around him. “Hey,” he breathes against his ear before pressing a kiss to the side of his head. “Are you ready?”

Quentin holds on to Eliot’s arms wrapped tight over his chest and leans his head back. “Yeah, you?”

“I was born ready.”

The three men that arrive in quick succession may vary in terms of appearance and age, but they all have one thing in common: generally submissive tendencies and an appropriate level of worship over Eliot’s pictures - face and otherwise. No one needs Eliot’s explicit permission to do anything tonight - that’s not Eliot’s style - but there is a general agreement that Eliot is in charge. Matt, a skinny white guy in his twenties, and John, a black man who definitely gives off librarian-chic vibes, arrive first, and Eliot is very pleased with their choices so far. 

When the last man enters the apartment and gives a quick hug in greeting, Eliot raises his eyebrows at Quentin over his shoulder. Michael’s well into his forties but looks even hotter than his picture. Quentin rolls his eyes, but Eliot knows he won. 

Eliot took his time getting ready tonight, so he’s not going to rush everybody taking their clothes off. Let the people see his impeccably tailored outfit.

“Please help yourself.” Eliot gestures at the plates and glasses lined up on the counter.

Ever the one to over-explain, Quentin picks up, “We have crackers and grapes and there’s more cheese in the fridge if this isn’t what you guys like.”

The smaller guy, Matt, speaks up, “Oh, I won’t be eating anything, I’m good.”

It’s casual, but given the activities they’re planning on tonight, pointed. Eliot’s hit with the fact of  _ I’m going to fuck him  _ and it settles hot and powerful in his stomach. If it were Quentin, he’d waltz over and give him a hug and whisper about how good he’s going to be for him, but Eliot is determined to play it a bit cooler until the festivities really start. 

They settle in and make pointless small talk about the weather, and slowly but surely everyone relaxes. Quentin needs a firm hand and Eliot whispering, “We can send them home at anytime,” before letting go of the worst of his catastrophizing and letting the night truly begin. 

Fittingly enough, it starts with Michael feeding Eliot grapes. 

Quentin is involved in a lively and far-too heated for a fuck party debate about  _ Game of Thrones _ with John, but Michael quietly sidles up to Eliot and offers, “Grape?”

Eliot locks eyes with him, delightful mischief lighting up when he sees the smile on Michael’s face. “Sure.”

Instead of passing it over, Michael lifts it up to Eliot’s mouth. He lets it linger for a moment along his lips before letting Eliot pop it inside and bite down. It tastes good, but the rush of heat and power that blows through him is much stronger than any rush from the taste. 

Eliot makes a small show of it, though, chewing deliberately and swallowing. “You may proceed,” he says, and he’s pretty sure years of Fillory make it come out commanding and not at all over-the-top. 

The vibe turns heady as one by one the rest of the party realizes that service has begun. The fact that it’s not something that showy, just Michael wordlessly popping grapes into Eliot’s mouth, almost makes it hotter. It brings him back to Brakebills and how he used to play at being a monarch, but it feels much easier now. Eliot feels like he’s grown, and this feeling right now of effortless command confirms it.

He locks eyes with Quentin while he bites down. After his little comment the other day, Eliot knows he remembers Brakebills, too. 

Luckily, grapes are mostly water, so Eliot can keep up the show for a good few minutes. He lets Michael brush his fingers against his lips with each one and barely even looks at him, making him work for it. Eliot likes to soothe and help, but he also  _ loves _ to tease. If they’re gonna do this, the newbies should learn that. 

But eventually, even Eliot has his teasing limits.

Eliot looks to his right, and  _ damn _ , Michael has slid to his knees next to Eliot’s chair. He looks good, but that’s not quite what Eliot wants yet. “C’mere.”

With a firm hold on his shoulder, Eliot beckons Michael to sit on top of him. He’s so hot, and hopefully the position does something for Q across the room from him. 

Eliot slides a hand into Michael’s hair, pulling on the gray strands, and brings his head down for a kiss. He starts almost chaste, feeling out his style, but Michael opens up so easily for him, going right in for these wide sucks on Eliot’s tongue that bring him up hot. 

Fuck, he forgot what it was like to really kiss someone new: the push and pull of exploring someone’s mouth and not knowing every little move. Without even realizing it, Eliot and Quentin have gotten into a familiar rhythm, a familiar way of biting and sucking and feeling out each other. In all ways, Q is the longest relationship he’s ever had and somehow he had truly forgotten that not everybody kisses like Quentin.

Eliot moans against Michael and rubs his other hand up along his back, side, up to clutch his pecs briefly - he’s got real muscles - before sliding back around to his back to pull him forward. He encourages Michael to grind down against him, and grind he does. He’s almost taking direction as well as Quentin.

Speaking of, Eliot feels an extra hand petting his hair, and, breaking all common codes of kissing, opens his eyes. Yep, Quentin has finally had enough of the nerd talk and has calmed down enough to join in the fun.

Loose from kissing and with a big smile on his face, Eliot pulls back and says, “Hey, babe.”

“Hey,” Quentin says quietly, still petting his fingers through his hair. 

Eliot’s gaze flicks to Quentin’s mouth. “Kiss me.”

With a fond smile, Quentin bends down. Placing a light hand on Eliot’s jaw, Quentin takes over for Michael and fucks Eliot’s mouth open with his tongue. Where Michael was new and different, Quentin is everything homey and familiar. He loves him so much. 

Breaking away from the kiss, Eliot asks, “Do you want to kiss Michael?”

With only a brief nod, Quentin goes for Michael’s lips. But, Eliot still has his hand in Michael’s hair, and he grips tight and pulls back. Michael bucks back with a gasp, and Quentin stops with the most adorable confused expression on his face.

“You didn’t ask Michael,” Eliot explains.

Eliot can see the effect his powerplay has on Quentin in stages: first he flushes in embarrassment and pleasure, then glares briefly at Eliot, then sinks into it and asks Michael, “Can I kiss you?”

“Yeah.”

Eliot lets go of Michael’s hair, and Quentin and Michael surge forward. Michael is still balanced on top of Eliot, so Eliot makes use of his hands to feel up his very impressive body. He’s got such a great ass. And he sounds great making out with Q. 

Michael breaks the kiss for a moment to lift his shirt. Sparse, graying chest hair is revealed to Eliot, and something about it fills him with a weird sense of nostalgia. The feeling is a little too bittersweet for an orgy, so Eliot tries to file that one away and just focus on the hot man grinding in his lap and making out with his boyfriend. 

Eliot kisses a small line over what he can reach of Michael’s chest. He sucks a nipple into his mouth, and the little moan Michael breathes out into Quentin’s mouth has him smirking into his chest. 

Peering around Michael’s chest, Eliot can see that John and Matt have gotten started. Thank god, while he loves putting on a show, this party will go much smoother if everyone isn’t awkwardly waiting for his command. Eliot loves ordering people around, but he doesn’t have the attention span to micromanage. 

Eliot taps Michael’s shoulders and says, “Up.”

He gets the hint and clambers off the chair, giving Eliot space to make his way over to the rest of their little gathering. What can he say, he’s an impeccable host.

Which means he also drops a quick kiss on Quentin’s temple before crossing the room to continue his fun.

“Hello, boys.” With a rush of confidence, Eliot peels off his waistcoat and slides himself in between the two other men. He knows for a fact that they both think he’s hot and want him to dom them. Might as well give the people what they want.

He grabs the back of Matt’s neck and pulls him in for a kiss while his other hand pulls John close. He takes the minimal direction and rolls with it by licking a stripe up Eliot’s neck and sucking a hickey into his pulse point. Eliot can’t help the moan that shocks out of him, the hint of pain sparking his libido. Turning more fully into Matt has the added benefit of letting John fit himself along Eliot’s back to keep pressing kisses and sucks against his neck. If he comes away from this night looking like he was mauled he’ll take it as a night well played.

“You’re so hot,” John whispers against his neck, which, yeah okay Eliot’s ego is the size of Jupiter so yes that does make his cock even harder. 

John’s words make Eliot push his body harder against Matt, sucking his face and running his hands along his back. “So good,” he whispers, and it could be for both of them, he doesn't particularly know or care. They are being good. Telling him how amazing he is always deserves a reward.

The making out is so good and hot and warm, but Eliot’s cock is truly making itself known to him, and they do have a goal tonight. Directing people to make out is all well and good, but Eliot wants a blowjob. And from their previous correspondence, he knows how wild John went over his cock. He would love to see that enthusiasm in person.

So he pushes Matt back on the couch and pushes John down to the floor on his knees. 

“Are you ready to suck me?” Eliot asks.

“Yeah, give it to me.” 

He had a lot more to say over chat, but Eliot will accept it as the enthusiastic consent it is. 

Eliot unbuckles his belt, the sound loud over the background music, and shimmies his pants down. After taking a moment to assess, Eliot shrugs his shirt off, too. The naked aesthetic is better than having his dick hang out with just a shirt on, and he was starting to sweat. 

In the time that took, John has whipped his shirt off and is looking up at Eliot hungrily, palming his cock through his pants. Good.

Eliot grabs his jaw and plants a quick kiss on his mouth. His hand presses harder, keeping his mouth open and running a finger along his lips like he’s assessing him. Fuck, he can’t wait to fuck inside him.

John’s eyes have started to slide closed, but Eliot presses his fingers in harshly to shock them open again. “Do you think you’ve earned my cock?”

“I want it,” John breathes out. 

Eliot loves teasing devilishly, but his face betrays him with a genuine grin at the proceedings. “Convince me.”

“Please, I want to suck you so bad.” John works his hands over Eliot’s thighs. “I haven’t stopped thinking about your cock all day.”

“Yeah?”

“Please let me, please.” John leans closer between Eliot’s thighs, like he’s about to just go for it and swallow him whole. Without hair to pull, Eliot clutches his head in both hands and stops him short. He pushes him down further against his balls, and John takes to them greedily, like by maybe pleasing him like this he can earn his cock. John gives these light little licks offset with firm sucks that go straight to Eliot’s core, and he can’t help the groan that slips out of him.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Eliot moans, holding John’s face against him as he worships his balls. Fuck. “Okay, sure, yes, you have definitely earned my cock.” 

John drags his tongue from Eliot’s balls to his cock, and Eliot lets himself fall back and just enjoy the ride. He loves having his dick sucked. 

And John is doing such a wonderfully passable job. At some point Eliot must have closed his eyes, because he hears instead of sees Quentin make his presence known again. He keeps making these little “eh-hem” half-cough sounds, and Eliot can’t help but laugh at his boyfriend’s ridiculousness while he has a random pretty boy on his cock. 

“Did you need something, Quentin?” Eliot asks primly.

“Um, excuse me, John? You can go wetter with it.”

The timid command makes Eliot’s eyes sparkle. Well this is new and unexpected.

Eliot wraps a hand around the back of John’s head but keeps his eyes trained on Quentin. “Are you gonna show him, Q? Gonna show him how to be good for me?”

They lock eyes, and Quentin slides down to his knees next to John, who still has his pretty mouth around Eliot’s cock. Quentin always looks good on his knees, eager.

“Hey,” Quentin directs at John before pulling him up and off Eliot’s cock and onto his own lips like a hello. They look so good together, their contrasting skin tones playing off each other in the dim light. “Is this okay?” Quentin double-checks with a hand on the back of John’s neck, and he nods. 

Quentin guides John’s head back to Eliot’s cock, and all Eliot can do is watch. He’s enraptured by the sight of Quentin kindly guiding this random guy over him, connecting them all through their shared history and knowledge of each other. Quentin knows him. Knows how wet he likes it, knows that Eliot is happy with any kind of blowjob but will turn to jelly for a great one. And Quentin knows how to give Eliot a great blowjob.

John comes at him with a new angle and a relaxed throat, and suddenly Eliot is much deeper. It’s so warm and wet, and the sight and feeling work together to bring Eliot higher and higher. 

And then Quentin leans close, too, licking and sucking and adding even more saliva and Eliot feels like maybe he’s going to die. He still has the illusion of control, but he feels completely blown open by Quentin on his knees before him. 

Eliot clutches at Quentin’s hair, not directing, just needing to feel. “So good.”

It’s too much. It’s too good, and if he’s going to fuck anybody tonight then he can’t come right now. He wants to, it’s right there, but he can’t. He pulls Quentin and John off his cock.

He takes a moment with Quentin, brushing his hair back and kissing his cheek. “Love you.” Eliot’s never said that at any fuck party he’s ever been invited to, so it almost feels wrong, like it may break the spell or something. But Quentin makes him soft, so goddamn soft that he can’t help but check in. 

“You, too,” Quentin whispers into his ear before pulling his pants off. 

Matt is ready to get fucked. Eliot knows this because the cocky kid presents himself on the couch, ass in the air, and tells him, “I’m ready to get fucked.” Without Eliot noticing, he’s been working his cock and having Michael finger him open, and Eliot can’t wait to get inside him. 

He slides a condom over his cock, the sensation unfamiliar anymore since he’s been monogamous with Q. 

Eliot grabs hold of the ass in front of him. It feels so different to Quentin’s bony butt, but Eliot is so far gone over him that he’s honestly never even noticed or cared how small Quentin’s ass was before. 

“Fuck me,” Matt moans. Eliot is happy to oblige.

He sinks in slowly. He knows he’s a lot to take and gives them both a moment to get used to the sensation. He starts slow and steady, forcing Matt to relax around him.

For a moment he’s just a body fucking another body and he almost feels like he did at Brakebills, but then Quentin comes up next to him, and he’s grounded. Quentin presses a kiss against his shoulder, and Eliot thrusts, and these men around him may be playing at worshiping him, but Quentin actually worships him, as much as love is worship. 

Hands. There are so many hands on him and around him, some worshipful, others hesitant. And through it all, he feels Quentin pressed against his back and sucking the most lovely hickies into his neck. He may be fucking Matt, but Quentin is the one who makes him feel like a king. Cared for. 

Matt is making these low-pitched whimpers and his legs are shaking like he’s so close. If it were Quentin he’d draw it out and make him wait to come, but they haven’t discussed that with these guys. Eliot may be in control of what happens, but he’s not in control of them, can’t be the way he is with Quentin who he knows so well. 

So he keeps fucking him at the same angle until Matt comes, and the feeling of his ass clenching down around him gets him right up to the edge of orgasm.

“Eliot,” Quentin whispers, brushing his sweaty hair back from his forehead. He leans in close and kisses Eliot’s slack mouth, and Eliot is so goddamn close. He reaches a hand down and feels Quentin, feels how hard he is, how close watching Eliot fuck these other men has gotten him. 

“Everyone knows,” Quentin pants against his mouth, and it’s nonsensical. 

“What?” Eliot laughs, far too close to the edge to make sense of vagueness.

“Everyone knows how perfect you are.” Quentin looks at him so intensely, and Eliot feels gutted. 

“You, too,” He whispers back, stroking over his beautiful cock with purpose.

“Please,” Quentin moans. And he’s been so good, so perfect for him through everything. 

“Come, Quentin.” 

Quentin sighs as he comes, and yeah maybe Eliot’s got Quentin trained or whatever, but he’s kind of got himself trained too because watching Quentin come gets him right there so fast. With final jerks of his cock, Eliot comes into the condom, working himself through it until he feels completely wringed out.

Eliot wraps his arms around Quentin while everyone gets cleaned up. With goodbye hugs and a promise to meet up if their services are ever requested again, the three men head out.

“Happy birthday,” Quentin mumbles into Eliot’s chest. Eliot wraps both arms tight around Quentin’s shoulders, sheltering this beautiful man in his arms and feeling like he’s on top of the world. 


End file.
